Apologize Now
by RomanticizedRebel
Summary: Or, How To Really Tick Anthony DiNozzo Off. Canon, but Tiva if you squint. Oneshot


"Why don't you go back to Saudi-Iraqia, or wherever you came from?" a caustic voice slurred.

Ziva lowered her cellphone from her ear, turning sharply towards the source of the comment. She found it in the form of a polo shirt clad, beer-stained imbecile. He reeked of alcohol, and was clearly was doing poor job of holding his liquid courage, His pack of idiot friends sat behind him at the bar, empty bottles littered between them as they squawked with laughter.

She leveled them all with a glare while she regretted heading to where she thought would be a quieter area in the bar before returning her attention to her cell phone. _"Sorry, Aunt Nettie," _she continued in Hebrew, _" I am in a bar and there are a few morons. I am very sorry to hear about your friend Sarai, but I really cannot-"_

"Hey! You speakin' terrorist? Who do ya work for- Al Qaeda?"

It took a split second for the English portion of her brain to register what he had said, and one more for a fiery rage to shoot through her. "What did you just say to me?" she hissed.

The sloshed man, clearly encouraged by the continued cackling of his friends, took another step towards her. " I said, are you-"

Suddenly, a grey blur blew past her, rustling the soft fabric of her blouse as it slammed smashed-fat-and-ugly into the wall behind them. "I think she knows exactly what you said," the tall figured growled, "and I really think you should apologize. _Now."_

The idiot who made a racist comment just a moment ago pinned up against the wall in a classic Karate hold by none other than Tony. His face was frighteningly angry, and the tone he used was one he rarely used on people besides killers and other scum of the earth. "We've taken down more terrorists than you can count to protect fuckers like you." The seldom-heard Long Island accent was creeping into his speech, something that only happened when he was tipsy or truly furious. In this case, it might be both. "And I suggest you apologize. _Now."_

By this point, the original drunks friends had gotten up and were drawing closer, looking primed for a fight. Ziva was confident that Tony and she could easily take them, as they both had extensive fight training _and _were not four sheets to the wind like their opponents. However, she truly did not wish to get into a brawl, as she knew the bartender- a lovely man named James. He had become a friend to her and she knew would not appreciate a post-happy hour Krav Maga demonstration…

"Problem, gentlemen?" A low, gravely voice growled. Low and behold, there was their esteemed leader, looking mildly irritated. He was flanked by McGee, who looked pissed, and Palmer, who looked scared but equally pissed.

Though the offending idiots were intoxicated, they were apparently not suicidal and began backing off. "Hey, no harm, no foul," the shortest one offered, hands outstretched in a peace gesture.

Tony did not seem to concur as he continued to press the one who had insulted Ziva against the wall. "Oh, I'm not so sure of that."

Ziva crept up and put a hand on his tense shoulder. "Let him go, Tony. He is not worth it."

Tony heaved a heavy sigh before he released him in a heap on the floor. "Fine."

Gibbs glanced down at the man and gave a little chuckle before turning on his heel. "Let's go."

Deciding that it would be best to call it a night, the group of five walked down the street back towards NCIS. As Ziva fell in step with her partner, she turned to him. "Thank you for that, but you do know I easily could have handled the situation myself?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "I know, but I was really pissed."

"Why were you so angry?"

"Other than the fact that the cowards insulted and then threatened you?" he shot back. At her searching look, he sighed. "Racism pisses me off. A lot."

"Do people often comment about your Italian heritage?"

"Not often, and when they do, I can handle that… But you…" he motioned towards Ziva, at a loss for words. "I don't even know."

The rest of the way back to NCIS was spent in silence, but Tony did note the heavy hand that patted his shoulder and the small one that lightly gave his own a squeeze.

**I would love to hear what you thought!**


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